Suffer As A Prime
by Zemara Prime
Summary: Sequel to "Toxic Love". (If you haven't read it, this one may seem a bit confusing). "Taking away driving privileges works to discipline some bots. But for others, they need more persuasive means." - SS/OP/Ratch. BDSM and Sticky. OP is very ooc.
1. Chapter 1

**Suffer As A Prime**

Sequel to "Toxic Love". Taking away driving privileges works to discipline some bots. But for others, they need more persuasive means. - SS/OP/Ratch. BDSM. OP is very ooc. Surprises throughout the story but there's a big one at the end.

Don't skip to the end! Every time you ruin the ending Megatron kills a kitten.

**P.S.** Yes, I know in the Prime series Ratchet has his medical scanner located on the side of his arm, but for the sake of this story, it's handheld. Enjoy!

Smokescreen could feel his spark drop in his chest. Surely Optimus Prime had not just said…..

What punishment could he possibly have in mind? And—dear Primus—how long had he been listening on the comm?

Ratchet looked like he had just got infected by Cosmic Rust. Smokescreen was the first to speak. "So, doc bot, how long you think until Prime gets back?" Ratchet snapped out of his reverie. "Ah, well, considering that the Ground Bridge still needs repairs, his estimated time of arrival should be…." he typed in figures on the computer, "…...approximately 45 Earth minutes."

Smokescreen nodded. "That seems like enough time for us to prepare for—". Ratchet interrupted him. "We? As I recall, youngling, He specifically mentioned _you_. It was _you_ that went off without telling any of us where you went. _You_ got yourself caught by the Decepticons. _You_ were experimented on! By the All Spark, Smokescreen, you could have been killed! And Primus knows what the Tox-O has done to your system."

Ratchet picked up the scanner he had dropped and waved it over the smaller bot. Smokescreen narrowed his eyes and stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, Ratchet. I never meant any of this to happen."

Ratchet's eyes softened a bit. "Yes, yes…..well, you'll really be sorry when Optimus gets a hold of you. It'll be more than a slap on the wrist this time, I can assure you." Satisfied with the results, he put away the scanner. "It doesn't look as if the poison did any irreversible damage. For now we have to get you patched up. Lay down here and I'll see what I can do."

For the next 20 minutes the doctor worked in silence cleaning up the mess the Cons—and he—had done on the young bot. Every once in a while Smokescreen would wince in pain as a weld was made in his armor. Ratchet wondered what exactly had gone on while he was on the Con's ship, but he knew now wasn't the best time for an interrogation. Suddenly, there was a loud clanging coming from the main generator. "What on Cybertron?" Ratchet sweared. The lights flickered once or twice, then went out completely, a low whir echoing as the motor died.

"Primus help me, what else could go wrong today? C'mon, hot shot, let's see if we can figure out what's happened to the generator." Turning on their headlights, they walked through the blacked out base. Ratchet stopped halfway down one of the hallways. Smoke was coming from behind a panel on the wall. "Ah, here looks to be the problem." Removing the heavy panel, he bent down to inspect the wires, then shook his head. "Hmm, that's strange….." "What is it?" Smokescreen asked, bending down as well.

"Look at where the wires have been cut. The ends are cauterized. I'm no weapons specialist, but I've patched up quite a few bots in my day, and I believe I know what—or who—cut them." He transformed one arm into his welder and began fusing the metal back together.

"Cons? There's no way they found the base." Hearing a loud bang, Smokescreen shot up and turned toward the sound. "What was that?"

Ratchet snickered, "Heh, not afraid of the dark, are you kid? It's just the rotors in the generator shifting. They'll start to settle when not in motion. Just relax a click, I've almost got this fixed."

"But Ratchet, the generator is _that_ way, the way we came. The sound came from further down the hall." Giving an impatient sigh, the medic replied, "Well, if you're so worried, go check it out. I'll be here if you need backup."

The tone in Ratchet's voice made Smokescreen tense up. He probably thought he was hearing things. He clenched his fists and bit his glossa, not wanting to say anything he'd regret. Of course the doc didn't have much faith in him. None of the others Autobots did. Could he blame him after what a foolish decision he made? Worst of all, he knew Optimus was disappointed in him. That hurt more than anything the Decepticons could do .

He made a slow pace down the hall, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, looking for any kind of movement. Once he thought he saw a light in one of the rooms, but it was still locked. No bot could have got in or out, so he quickly dismissed it as his optics playing tricks on him in the dark. He was almost to the end of the hall when he heard a scream. "Smokescreen!" It was Ratchet. He quickly ran back to where he had left the medic. "No! Doc, where are you?" Ratchet's welder was lying on the ground, still smoking. It had been cut off of his arm. There was no sign of him except for two drag marks leading into the darkness.

The blue mech transformed one of his arms into a cannon. Powering it up, he yelled into the blackness, "Who are you? Show yourself! Whoever you are, I can take you on with one servo tied behind my back!" As soon as he spoke, he could feel a tingling on the back of his neck. There was someone standing right behind him. How did they sneak up on him so quietly? He spun around and saw a huge form towering over him. A pair of blue optics was staring him down. There was a crackle of electricity, then a blinding white streak of pain jolting through his body before he fainted in a dead heap.

To Be Continued... :3


	2. Chapter 2

Suffer As A Prime

Sequel to "Toxic Love". If you haven't read it, this one may seem a bit confusing.

"Taking away driving privileges works to discipline some bots. But for others, they need more persuasive means." - SS/OP/Ratch. BDSM. OP is very ooc. Surprises throughout the story but there's a big one at the end.

Don't skip to the end! Every time you ruin the ending Megatron kills a kitten. :(

P.S. Yes, I know in the Prime series Ratchet has his medical scanner located on the side of his arm, but for the sake of this story, it's handheld. I also typed in the lyrics to "Toxic," by Britney Spears. I probably should've used it on my "Toxic Love" fic but, meh, it fits well here too. Very kinky.

Enjoy!

* * *

The first thing Smokescreen heard when he came to was the gentle hum of the base's generator running again. Had Ratchet been able to repair it? No, he couldn't have. Recalling what had happened before he was attacked, there couldn't have been enough time for it to be fixed. His mind was still too fuzzy to work it out. After a minute or so he was alert enough to take in more of his surroundings. Apparently, he was blindfolded with his arms locked above his head, his wrists cuffed. Struggling against his bonds he heard a chain rattle. Someone had hung him there from the ceiling! He groaned, unable to speak or call for help. Stealthily, he heard someone approaching him from behind again. Only a few paces and the bot was upon him.

_[Baby can't you see…..I'm callin'…]_

He yelped as someone dug a finger into his side where he had been electrocuted.

"You disappoint me, Smokescreen."

The little bot struggled for words. "O-Optimus?" he asked. What was going on? The gears in his head started to click into place. There was no way Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, protector of the innocent, had strung him up like a rag doll to be played with. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His leader's voice had a dangerous tone that Smokescreen had never heard before.

_[A guy like you should wear a warning…]_

"Yes, you naughty bot. Time after time, I and the other Autobots have told you never to go out on your own. It is a danger to all of us and the humans that we cannot afford in this war. Your stubbornness and pride have clouded your judgement for the last time. Now there will be no more disrespect as long as I lead you, I will make sure of that."

"W-What are you going to do?" asked Smokescreen, his voice shaking, with fear or excitement he didn't know.

_[It's dangerous…..I'm fallin'…..]_

Undoing the blindfold, the Prime gave him a second to adjust to the dim light in the room. But this wasn't just any room. It was Optimus' quarters! About ten meters away, knocked out cold, was Ratchet. He was splayed out on the berth, but looking as if he were sleeping comfortably.

"Ratchet? Ratchet, wake up!" Smokescreen cried. The ambulance groaned and grabbed his head before sitting up. "Ow, my aching processor….what the slaa….Smokescreen?" He looked in amazement at the young bot strung up, their fearless leader standing a meter away with his face mask drawn over his mouth as if in battle, an electro-whip in his hand. "Oh, no…." he groaned. Optimus approached him with a fierce look in his optics.

_[There's no escape….I can't wait…I need a hit….baby, give me it…]_

"Ratchet, we have know each other for a very long time. During those many stellar cycles, I have never known you to purposefully disobey an order, even if it went against your personal beliefs." His fists clenched tighter with every word.

_[You're dangerous….I'm loving it…]_

"Optimus, you know I did all I could! There was no way of knowing where he was at the time. He turned off his signal after he left the base….aaahhh!" Optimus grabbed his wrist and bent it back, making the medic cry out. "That is no excuse! He is far too valuable to lose. Smokescreen is our only hope of the Autobots winning this war after I am gone. Ratchet, _he will be the last Prime_." Optimus spoke the last sentence slowly, wanting it to sink in.

Ratchet's optics widened. He looked to Smokescreen, then back at his leader. "Smokescreen? You've chosen this, this…..young, foolhardy mech as your successor? You must be joking!"

_[Too high, can't come down…loosin' my head, spinnin' round and round….]_

"He will need lots of training and guidance before he becomes a Prime. And you're going to help me….old friend." There was a mischievous glint in his optics.

_[Do you feel me now?]_

Ratchet held out his hands. "Oh no, Optimus, you're not getting me involved with this one's punishment. We've already been through Bumblebee's. After that the poor bot couldn't transform properly for a week!"

The young bot's optics darted back and forth between them. "What are you two talking about!" he yelled in desperation, pulling hard at his bonds. Optimus turned and approached him with such an air of dominance that he couldn't help but cower. He cupped Smokescreen under the chin in a choke hold, slowly drawing his face up to meet his. The Prime retracted his mask, then…..Smokescreen's door wings drooped and his eyes widened in shock. There was no way this was happening. Optimus Prime was kissing him! He felt his knees grow weak as he struggled to stay standing. He closed his optics tight, leaning in to the kiss. His spark was pulsing like mad as the moment seemed to last forever. Suddenly breaking it off, the Prime's lips were replaced by a finger. He slid the digit into Smokescreen's hot, panting mouth. Growling with approval, he said, "We are going to teach you a lesson, Smokescreen. One you will _never_ want to forget."

_[With the taste of your lips I'm on a ride…..you're toxic, I'm slippin' under….]_

Optimus added another finger. Smokescreen moaned as he sucked on the digits. He was uncomfortable, confused, and slightly aroused, but he decided not to question it. "Mmmmm, Smokescreen. Such a naughty little mech." Smokescreen could feel his spike pressing against the inside of his codpiece when Optimus spoke again. He removed his fingers, "Turn around. And do not look. You will not be prepared for what is about to come." The young bot didn't dare disobey. Optimus let the coils of the whip drop to the floor.

_[With the taste of a poison paradise….I'm addicted to you…]_

"Optimus, don't! He's already been hurt enough. Plus I've just got him patched up!" Ratchet sat up on the side of the berth and tried to rise, but the Prime cracked the whip at the medic, barely missing his face. The medic put a hand up to shield himself. "Do not interfere. You know this must be done." Turning back, he gazed hungrily at the sleek curves in Smokescreen's doorwings, his legs, his aft. Primus, he had waited so long for the young bot to screw up like this. He remembered the time Bumblebee had his vocal cords ripped from his neck the time he tried to take on Megatron on his own. Like Smokescreen, he was lucky to be alive. The leader's optics clouded over as memories flooding his processor. The little yellow bot had never disobeyed him again after his punishment.

_[Don't you know that you're toxic?]_

The Prime's face mask snapped back shut. He leaned back far and with a grunt let loose a strike that could have brought an Earth elephant down. Smokescreen yelled so loud his screams could be heard all throughout the base. Strike after strike the Prime unloaded all of his muscle onto the young bot. After the 50th strike, he could handle no more. "Optimus, please…ahhh….I'm sorry! Really, truly sorry! I should never have left the base without your permission. I'm sorry for disrespecting you…..nhhh….and the others. I know you're only trying to protect me. PLEASE!" Ratchet had to turn his head away in disgust.

Optimus continued as if he hadn't heard him. He grunted with every blow he made. "Your apology is accepted, but….arrrg….you must learn the meaning of respect…nnnhhh…and discipline." The young bot was near tears. "I can't stand it Optimus! A-anything would be better….ahhhh!...than this torture! ANYTHING!"

The Prime finally stopped. He spun the trembling bot around to face him. "Torture, Smokescreen? I have barely begun."

_[And I love what you do….don't you know that you're toxic?]_

Roughly, the Prime single-handedly lifted the smaller mech off the chain and had him kneel on the floor, his arms positioned behind his back. The youngling's back was covered in a woven pattern of slash marks, each one oozing out a vast amount of energon. Some had begun to drip in a steady stream onto the floor. Ratchet had never seen the mech so defeated. And he knew it wasn't over by a long shot. Prime grasped the young bot's head and snapped it back to where they were looking optic to optic.

"You will service me as I see fit, young one, until you learn what it means to suffer as a Prime." With the words barely out of his mouth, a click was heard as Optimus retracted his codpiece. His spike snaked out of its housing and hardened into an impressive length. He attempted to guide it into Smokescreen's mouth but the bot had his jaws clenched tight. "Open your mouth, Smokescreen," he said dangerously, tightening his grip on the mech's head. The youngling closed his eyes and tried to turn away. "No, Optimus. I can't." Secretly, he had wanted to be closer to Optimus than just a leader-to-soldier relationship, but he didn't want it like this. This is not what he had imagined at all. "You are in no position to argue." Optimus said with a growl. He turned and yelled, "Ratchet! You know what to do." With a sigh the medic rose and walked to a drawer across the room. He fumbled through what sounded like a bundle of instruments. Primus knows what they were for, Smokescreen thought. He didn't have to wait long to find out. Ratchet finally pulled out a curved, cylindrical object, a rippling pattern along its length. Even in the dim light it looked intimidating. "Just for the record, I'm not condoning any of this," he said quietly. Optimus nodded, "Your opinion is noted." The medic took his place behind the young bot. Optimus spoke, this time his tone a bit softer.

"You said you would do anything, Smokescreen, to have the pain stop. The amount of pain you have caused me far exceeds what I did to you. But I have seen the glances you give me when you think I am not looking. How your eyes trace my form as I walk. Or even during a battle. This may be a punishment but I am not without compassion. You can have pleasure instead of pain. But you must be willing to trust me and obey." The Prime glanced at Ratchet. He nodded and flicked the switch on the device in his hand. All the young bot heard was a low buzzing before the device was pressed against his valve. "Ahhh!" He jumped from the contact.

_[It's getting late to give you up…I took a sip from my devil's cup…..]_

"Mmmm, I bet you're nice and tight." The thought of Optimus spiking him sent a surge of pleasure through his body. He pressed his valve harder against the vibrator Ratchet was holding. "Please, Optimus…."

_[Slowly, it's taking over me….]_

Ratchet nudged the tip of the device inside. Smokescreen's intakes hitched and his cooling fans kicked on. "You'd better give him what he wants before he overloads," Ratchet grinned. "And me too…" he said under his breath, shoving the vibrator a bit deeper. He hated to think his spike was getting hard at this display.

"Please, what, youngling? I am your Prime. You will address me with due respect." "Nnnhhh…..Optimus, sir…..please…..I want you to spike me." Behind his mask the Prime smiled. The elders got up and switched places. The medic threw the vibrator down and impatiently retracted his codpiece. Dazed and slightly disoriented, Smokescreen opened his mouth for Ratchet's spike. He slowly entered, the youngling's warm, wet glossa surrounding his thick spike. The medic moaned as he began with slow thrusts. It had been vorns since he spent a day like this.

_[Too high, can't come down…..it's in the air and it's all around…]_

Optimus took his time, however, sticking his fingers in every gap and crevice on Smokescreen's frame. His strong hands seemed to know just what cables to pinch and wires to twist to set the mech off. But hearing the youngling's whimpers wasn't helping Ratchet at all. He grasped his helm with both hands, making his spike go deeper. His hips rocked faster and faster. "Orion…." he moaned.

With one hard thrust, the medic overloaded. Smokescreen greedily gulped down the oily liquid. The old bot pulled out of Smokescreen's panting mouth, with a few strands of his sticky transfluid trailing out. He fell backwards with a sigh and collapsed on the floor. Two overloads in one day! He hadn't felt so exhausted, yet completely content, to be in the position he was now. He turned his sleepy optics to the remaining pair.

The youngster coughed and tried to lick up the remaining transfluid off his face, but failed. Prime retracted his face mask again. Grabbing Smokescreen at the throat, he twisted his head around and lapped up the mess. Ratchet's eyes widened as he saw the Prime tasting his own fluid. It was quite….erotic.

_[Can you feel me now?]_

Smokescreen's glossa entertwined with his leader's in a violent display, each trying to gain dominance. Nipping a lip in the process, Optimus broke off the kiss. Slowly, as not to hurt him, he guided his own spike into Smokescreen's valve. It slid in perfectly, as if it were made for him. "Ahhhh, yes, please…..more, sir…." The Prime leaned in. "You are very vocal, youngling," he growled. "I will make you scream until your pleasure is heard by every vermin on Cybertron."

_[Intoxicate me now….with your lovin' now…..I think I'm ready now…..]_

Optimus grasped the rope tied around Smokescreen's wrists. In one smooth movement, he flipped onto his back with Smokescreen on top, riding backwards. This caused his spike to go deeper inside of the young bot, making him howl in pleasure. His body convulsed as he tried to adapt to the large intrusion. The Prime rubbed his doorwings, his fingers massaging the hinges for comfort. As soon as the young bot relaxed, Optimus began thrusting.

"Ohhh….Optimus!" Smokescreen cried. The Prime wasted no time in keeping a steady rhythm. "Tell me how wet and hot I make you, Smokescreen," he gasped. "I need you to say it."

"Optimus…." he began, but his leader cut him off. "No…..my _real_ name," he demanded, transforming his free hand into his sword and placing it against the youngster's throat. This seemed to excite the young bot even more, much to Optimus's surprise.

"Ahhhh….Orion…..I have always admired you, but…I have never been worthy of you. Primus! I love you, Orion…f-frag me harder, please! My Prime…..I need you to overload in me….." This seemed to please the leader. He grasped his soldier's hips and pulled him ever harder down on his spike, thrusting so hard the young bot knew he wouldn't be able to sit properly in the morning.

Seeing he was close to overload, Ratchet rose from his comfortable spot on the floor and closed his mouth around Smokescreen's spike. No need to spill the precious fluid, he thought. It was the final straw for the young bot. With a choked sob he overloaded, screaming the Prime's name to the heavens. Optimus came a nanoclick later, filling Smokescreen's valve so full that transfluid began to leak out while the Prime was still inside.

Smokescreen collapsed in a heap next to his leader. Optimus's front was covered in Smokescreen's various bodiy fluids. He took his sword and cut the bonds around the bot's wrists. Ratchet, who was still holding Smokescreen's seed in his mouth, leaned over and passed the fluid into his Prime's waiting mouth. He swallowed it in big gulps. "Mmmm, Smokescreen, you taste sweeter than I imagined." The tired young bot could only groan in reply. "Do you know how good you taste?" Prime asked, taking a finger and catching a drip of transfluid that remained on the tip of his spike. He pressed it against the future Prime's lips. He quickly sucked it off his finger. The Prime then pulled him closer and kissed him tenderly.

"Now, Smokescreen, do you think you have learned your lesson? You will no longer react offensively when I or Ratchet correct you. You will not leave the base unless I, personally, know where you are going. And you most definitely will not turn off your signal. We only do this to protect you. Do you understand?"

Smokescreen took a deep breath and replied, "Yes, Optimus, sir. I won't disobey you again." Ratchet and Optimus looked at each other. It worked every time.

"But, sir, if it's all the same to you, I would like to do this again sometime," he grinned. The medic snickered, then saw something out of the corner of his optic.

"Waaaaaaaaaaahhh!" Ratchet yelled suddenly, much like Bulkhead had when the Scraplets had infiltrated their old base. Optimus and Smokescreen sprang up to see what was wrong.

The young human Miko was standing in the open doorway with a look of shock written all over her face. "Slag…." was all Optimus could say. The other two Autobots looked as if they had just met the unmaker. Miko looked from one of them to another, her mouth still open. After a long, painful silence, the three bots jumped.

"Yeeahhh…ROCK ON!"

Prime face-palmed, Smokescreen groaned, and Ratchet fainted.

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Oh, Miko…..XD

Read and Review please!


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